


reboot.exe

by for_t2



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Multi, Other, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-18 18:18:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12393537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_t2/pseuds/for_t2
Summary: The war is over, and Samaritan is dead. Root and Reese lost their lives, and Finch has vanished. But for Shaw, things are only just beginning, because the Machine is back. It's time to rebuild Team Machine, and start saving numbers again.Root may or may not actually be dead. We'll see. Post-Season 5.





	1. Chapter 1

The war was won. Samaritan was dead, its organisation scattered. 

But for Shaw, the war wasn’t over. There will still thousands of once-Samaritan assets out there. They could still be a threat if they got their shit back together. And there was the small matter of the torture they had put her through for months. What they had done to Root, and to the rest of the few friends she had. 

Anger and loyalty were always her best, her strongest emotions. As the remaining Samaritan operatives were finding out. After the end, with Root and Reese dead, and Finch vanished, all that remained of Team Machine were Shaw and Fusco. The detective still had a job and a son to take care of, so Shaw made it her mission to hunt down what was left of the enemy assets. 

Unfortunately, it seemed that the Samaritan agents weren’t all idiots. And there were a couple that were at the top of Shaw’s list, giving the rest time to run and hide. So, after a few months, the ex-ISA operative found herself back in New York, her most obvious leads starting to run out.  
And so there she was, one day, out taking Bear for a walk, thinking over the latest evidence she had come across, when she heard it, stopping her in her tracks. The sound of a payphone ringing. 

Cautiously, she walked over to it, waiting a second before picking it up.

“Can you hear me?” 

Turning her head to look at a CCTV camera pointed in her direction, she smiled. “Loud and clear,” she answered. 

“Oh good. It would have been so awkward if you couldn’t,” The Machine answered back. “Now, I'd love it if we could stay and chat, but I’ve arranged some equipment for you to pick up. Here’s the address.” 

She gave Shaw a few seconds to memorise the address, before continuing, “I’ll see you soon, sweetie!”

She then hung up, leaving Shaw to roll her eyes, but still smiling. 

*****

Arriving at the address, a small electronics store, Shaw walked in. 

“Can I help you?” The call came from behind the counter, where a young man was standing, obviously bored by the slow rate of business today.

“Um, yeah,” Shaw replied, “I’m supposed to be picking some stuff up?” 

“Ah, you must be Sam,” the clerk shot up to his feet, and disappeared round the back. “Wait one second.”

It took a minute before he came back, carrying a box.

“Here you go. It’s already all paid for.” He paused for a second, eying Shaw. “Do you need any help with it – it’s a bit heavy.” 

“Nope,” Shaw said, smirking, and easily taking the box and walking out of the store. 

Once out of the store, she walked over to the first bench she could find, and tore open the box. Inside were a bunch of computer parts, several phones and several earpieces. Smiling a little, she turned on one of the phones, and connected it with one of the earpiece. 

“Isn’t that better?” Came the Machine’s voice almost immediately. “Now, I’m sure you’d love to be able to play with these, but I’m going to need you to pick some more stuff up.” 

“What now?” 

“Third car to your left, the owner forgot to lock it.” 

“Having me steal a car already?”

“I know you’ll take good care of it, sweetie.”

“So where do you need me to go?” Shaw asked, having slipped into the car.

“I’ll tell you soon. First, we need to go say hi to an old friend.”

*****

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” 

“Well, I wouldn’t want you running around doing dangerous things on your own, would I?”

Rolling her eyes, Shaw sighed.

“In fact, there’s only one dangerous thing that I want you to be doing, if you catch my drift.”

“Don’t," Shaw said through gritted teeth. "Just… Don’t. First rule: stop with the stupid flirting.” 

After a moment’s silence, the Machine answered. “Sorry.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Shaw grunted back, before taking a breath and walking into the precinct. 

Walking past benches and chairs and people milling about, before finding her target, she sat down roughly on the chair and slapped a phone and an earpiece on the desk. 

“Well good afternoon to you too,” Fusco said sarcastically, looking up, surprised to see her. “I didn’t think I was going to see you again.” 

“I didn’t either, but She wants us to work together,” Shaw answered, gesturing to her ear. 

“She?” Fusco asked, taking a moment for it to dawn on him. “Wait, you mean we’re back in business?” 

“Yup.” 

“Just when I was getting used to things being boring again.” 

“If you don’t want to, Fusco…” 

“Hey,” the detective replied, his expression turning serious, “Whatever you need, whatever it... Um, She needs, I’m in.” 

“You sure?” 

Picking up the phone, he says, “I kinda liked saving the world. Makes a guy feel good, ya know?” 

“Glad to hear it,” Shaw said, before standing up. “Pick up your stuff, we’ve got a job.” 

“Now?”

“You got a problem?” 

“No, no,” he replied, not expecting the sudden call to action. “Been a slow day here anyway.” 

Grabbing his jacket, he followed Shaw out to the car, fiddling with the earpiece to get it comfortably in his ear. Once inside the car, he asked: “So, any idea where we’re supposed to be doing?”

“Nope.” 

*****

“How do you want to handle this?” 

“I’ll take the ones front-on. You go round and get them from the back.”

“You sure you can handle that?”

“I used to take down threats to national security, Fusco. I think I can handle a few gang members. Especially if you’re also shooting at them from the back.” 

“Hm, good point,” the detective nodded in agreement.

“And besides,” Shaw added, “We’ve got a robot overlord on our side. They don’t.” 

“I'm not a robot, you know," the Machine piped in through their earpieces. After giving Shaw time to roll her eyes, She continued. "Now kids, remember: kneecaps only."

“Yeah, yeah,” Shaw said. 

“Aw, don’t worry sweetie, you won’t be disappointed by what’s inside the truck.” 

Shaw sighed as she heard Fusco snigger, before glaring at him and gesturing that he should start sneaking round. After a few minutes, she checked on Fusco. “You in position?”

“Yup. Ready when you are.” 

“Once you hear gunshots, start firing.”

Finished saying that, Shaw jumped out from behind the car she was hiding behind, and started firing. Fusco barely had time to get out from the bush he was hiding behind on the other side of the street before all the gangsters were on the ground, moaning and gripping their knees. 

“Next time, find us something a little less easy,” Shaw said.

“You know what they say, sweetie,” the Machine answered, “You gotta start slow.” 

“You wanna do the honours and check what’s in the truck?” The detective said, putting his gun back into his holster. Shaw joined him in walking over to the back of the truck. Once there, she opened the door, revealing an impressive stack of guns, ammunition, and grenades. 

“Huh,” she said, mildly impressed. 

“Jesus,” the detective said, frowning, “I should probably be reporting this, you know?”

“You don’t want to get between Sameen and her guns, Lionel.” 

“Yeah, crazy as you are, Robo Puffs, I think you’re right on this one,” he answered, looking at Shaw climb into the truck, admiring a couple of the guns. 

“Now, sweetie,” the Machine said, “I don’t want to rush you, but you should really be getting these guns off the street. Gangs aren’t usually happy  
when someone messes with their trades.” 

“Where do you need to go?”

“Well, I guess that’s up to the both of you. Where do you want to set up shop?” 

“Why not the subway again? I didn’t get to see much of it, but that place had atmosphere,” Fusco asked, climbing into the back of the truck as well.

“It’ll need cleaning up,” the Machine pointed out.

“Shaw?” He said, turning to her.

After thinking about it for a moment, she answered, smiling. “Yeah. Why not the subway?” 

“Well then,” the Machine said, “Let’s go home.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Ya know, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.” 

As much as she would never admit it, Shaw had to agree that Fusco had a bit of a point. The Subway was a complete mess. With shattered bricks and computer bits scattered everywhere, they pay phone ripped out of the wall and lying on the ground, the massive hole in the wall, the leaking pipe and the rest, the place looked like it had been bombed. Which, to be fair, it basically had. 

“I guess we better start cleaning up, then,” Shaw said impassively. “Help me get the guns down here, we can stack them in that corner.” 

Forty-five minutes later, Fusco’s back aching from the exertion, they had finally brought all the contents of the truck down to the Subway stacking them in a relatively clean corner. 

“We should make a list of what we’ll need,” Shaw said, looking around and figuring out where they should start cleaning up. 

“Maybe we should start with some chairs,” the detective replied, flipping the only one of Finch’s old chairs that was still semi-usable back up, and sitting down in it. 

“Hey, RoboRoot,” Shaw asked, “Is this place safe?” 

“If you don’t draw any unwanted attention, darling, it should be,” the Machine answered. “Most of the Samaritan crew who knew where this place was are dead. And I don’t think the rest are eager to be found anytime soon.” 

“We should set up some defences anyways.” 

“Have fun!” 

Turning to Fusco, Shaw continued, “Get up Fusco, let’s take a look around and make that list.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, with a light tone of sarcasm. He stood up, and looked around for a few seconds, before he spoke. “Shouldn’t we have a piece of paper, or something, to write things down?”

“Just tell the Robot Overlord. She can remember.” 

“I’m not a…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shaw said, interrupting the Machine, “Whatever you say.” 

“Fine,” She said, sighing.

As she walked over to the wall, to take a look at putting the phone back up in its nook, Shaw smirked slightly, enjoying having won and annoyed the Machine. 

“You know, I’m still mad at you guys for not telling me about it… um, Her sooner,” Fusco shouted out from inside the subway car.

“You didn’t seem mad after we told you,” Shaw said, giving up on the phone, and walking over to the other side of the Subway.

“The world was ending. I didn’t have time to be mad then.”

“I guess we’ll just have to keep you busy now then,” Shaw replied. 

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” The detective replied.

After several seconds of not hearing an answer from Shaw, Fusco popped his head out of the subway car, puzzled. “Hey, Miss Congeniality, you find something?” 

Still not getting an answer, he popped completely out of the subway car, and walked over. Shaw was standing still, looking into the little room that Root had claimed as her own. The room was a mess, the cot overturned, books scattered around, the lava lamp smashed, its long-dried contents forming a stain on the carpet. 

“They must have searched the place,” Shaw said, her voice blank. 

“Bastards,” Fusco replied, mad, before turning to Shaw. “You going to be okay?”

“I’m fine.” 

“Okay…” He said, hesitantly, concerned for her.

“Come on,” Shaw said, turning away from the room, “We’ve got work to do.” 

*****

A couple days later, Shaw and Fusco had made some progress on cleaning up the Subway. They had gotten the pay phone back in its nook and functional, they set up a computer area and a gun area, and had swept up most of the debris on the floor. 

They were still debating what to do with the hole in the wall, however, unsure whether they should patch it up or expand their operations into it. And so there they were, standing on the tracks and looking into the dark space behind the hole with flashlights, when the Machine intervened.  
“I hate to interrupt your little exploration, but there’s a new number.”

“Finally,” Shaw said, “I was getting tired of playing janitor.”

“I do have a day job, ya know?” Fusco piped in.

“Don’t worry Lionel,” She said, “I hear you’re a bit of a legend on the force these days. You could probably retire today and still get a pay raise.”

“Is that an offer?” 

“Well…” She answered, drawing out her words, “I could do it, but…”

“But?”

“Gods like me move in mysterious ways,” She teased, “And besides, what would be the fun in that?”

“Yeah, yeah, I guess so,” he said, shaking his head. 

Shaw then walked over, having grabbed a couple guns, ready to head out. “So, who’s the number?”

“Texting you an address now, sweetie.” 

“An address? Don’t we get a name?” Fusco asked, taking a look at the address that was just texted to them.

“It’s going to be a surprise,” the Machine answered, with a perky tone. 

“A surprise?” Shaw said, already getting annoyed at the Machine, and eager to get into action.

“It’s a very special number.” 

Sighing, Shaw, looked up at the ceiling, before asking, “What aren’t you telling us?” 

“Well,” She answered, “I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but you and Lionel, you’re not really the computer types.”

“So?” Shaw said, wanting the Machine to just get to the point. 

“Well, someone needs to do the hacking.”  
“Isn’t that your job?” Shaw asked.

“There’s only so much you can do without a physical body, sweetie,” She answered, trying, but failing to keep the leer out of her voice.   
Noticing Fusco’s raised eyebrows, and Shaw’s exasperated sigh, the Machine decided to press ahead. “I don’t know where your minds just went, but it’s true. Three-quarters of hacking is just social engineering. And unfortunately, a disembodied voice just doesn’t always cut it. ” 

“What’s your point?” 

“The number’s a new asset, Sameen. Someone to join the team.”

“Just what I need,” Shaw said, with another exasperated sigh, “Another nerd in my life” 

*****

As they pulled up next to an old brick warehouse, in a more run-down bit of town, the Machine spoke to Shaw and Fusco. 

“Now, usually I don’t like to be too direct – gotta protect people’s privacy and all that – but, I’m afraid we need to get our teams up and running quickly. Unfortunately, being an artificial super-intelligence doesn’t give me the power to stop time, or to stop the numbers from popping up.” 

“So, the number’s in here,” Shaw asked, pointing towards the warehouse. 

“Yup.”

“Okay then, let’s go,” the ex-ISA operative said, getting out of the car, and walking round to the back to pick up a few guns and a ski mask. 

“What are we up against?” Fusco asked, grabbing the ski mask that Shaw tossed to him, and putting it on. 

“Oh, nothing too big,” the Machine replied, “Just some pissed-off mobsters. But, still, you wouldn’t want the number to get hurt, so you better go in guns-a-blazing.”

“You know,” the detective said out loud, “For someone who’s supposed to be saving people, Nuts & Bolts here sure seems to like violence now.”

“One of the unfortunate side effects of adopting the voice and personality of an ex-killer for hire, Lionel,” She replied. 

“As long as you don’t go all Skynet on us…” He said. 

“We’ve already had Samaritan for that, Fusco,” Shaw said, opening a door into the warehouse and stepping in carefully, gun ready to fire. 

The pair fell silent as they slowly made their way deeper into the warehouse, eventually climbing up to the second floor. There, they met three mobsters, standing guard. Even if the mobsters immediately opened fire, they were no match for the duo of Team Machine, and ended up on the ground, knees rendered useless. 

After a few more short gunfights, Shaw and Fusco found themselves breaking into one of the old office rooms. The room was almost completely empty, with nothing but a chair and a big box standing in the middle. 

“Well, this is anti-climatic,” Shaw said, looking around the room. “You sure this is the right place?” 

“I’m sure, sweetie.”

“So, where’s the number?”

“Have you checked the box?” 

“The box?” Shaw asked herself, wondering what exactly the Machine was up to. Still, she took out a knife and got to work opening the box. Once she had done enough to pop the top off, Shaw looked in.

“Oh, you have got to me kidding me.” 

“What is it?” Fusco asked, walking over to peer in the box, before groaning as well. 

Inside the box, bound and gagged, was none other than Leon Tao.


	3. Chapter 3

Inside one of Finch’s old safehouses, everything was quiet, gathering dust. Until an angry Shaw threw the door open, shoving a still bound and gagged Leon in. Fusco followed right after, checking to see that they weren’t followed, before closing and locking the door. Shaw pushed Leon roughly over to a sofa, before removing his gag. 

“Oh geez,” the con-man sputtered, “Thank you. Thank you.” 

As Fusco brought over a glass of water, Shaw didn’t even look at Leon, before talking to the Machine.

“Really? Leon? Is this your idea of an asset?” 

“He does have an appropriate skillset.” 

“His skill seems to be getting in trouble.” 

“I’m sure you’ll be a good influence on him,” She answered. “He just needs a shove in the right direction, that’s all.” 

“A good influence?” The detective asked, “You think we’re a good influence?” 

“Come on guys,” the Machine said, “He has worked with the team before. And besides, do I need to remind you that he did help save your life Sam?” 

“How do we know you’re not glitching again?” The ex-ISA operative asked. “Yeah, that’s right, Root told me about your little problems you had when they set you back up.” 

“My diagnostic programmes don’t indicate any impaired functioning.” 

“Well, maybe your diagnostic programmes are glitching,” Fusco said, shrugging. 

“Not helpful, Lionel,” the Machine shot back. “Listen, I know it seems… like an interesting choice, but trust me. Please.” 

Shaw sighed, and stood in silence for a second before uncrossing her arms. “You see, is this type of shit that makes me think I’m not in a simulation anymore. Nothing Samaritan ever put me through was this level of crazy.” 

“I do live to amuse, darlin. Now, you guys better attend to poor Leon there.”

Fusco and Shaw turned to Leon, still sitting on the couch, looking more terrified of Team Machine than ever. 

“Who…” He stammered, “Who are you talking to? What glitches? What simulation?” 

Shaw and Fusco glanced at each other for a second, silently debating who should be the one to tell Leon. After a few seconds, Fusco gave in.

“Okay, you’re going to want to sit down,” the detective started, before remembering that Leon was already seated. “Well, more than you already are.” 

*****

Half an hour later, with Leon now unbound, and sipping a glass of water, the detective finished the basic explanation of the Machine. 

“So,” Leon asked, “There’s an artificial super intelligence watching over us, it fights crime, and you guys are its sidekicks?” 

“Her. Not it,” Shaw interrupted, “And no, we’re not its sidekicks. It’s… different.” 

“And, there was another one, who was evil, and tried to take over the world, but you guys killed it?” 

“About sums it up,” Fusco said. 

“Whoa,” was all Leon said, sitting back, trying to process the news. 

“Yeah, that’s about how I reacted when they finally told me,” the detective emphasised. 

“What about the professor? And the suit?” Leon asked, sitting back up. “Where are they?” 

“Um…” Fusco started. 

“They’re dead.” Shaw said, interrupting Fusco.

“Oh,” was all Leon could say. 

“Reese was in that missile strike a few months back,” Shaw said, not displaying any emotion. “And Finch, well, we never found a body, but nobody’s seen or heard from him, and all his stuff is still lying around here, so…” 

“I’m sorry,” Leon said. “They were cool.” 

“Yeah, buddy,” Fusco said, closing his eyes briefly in memory of their fallen friends, “They were.” 

“And now She wants you to join the team,” Shaw said. 

“Um,” Leon said, thinking it over for a second, “Yeah, sure. I guess I’m in.”

“You sure?” 

“Um…” He replied, uncertain, a little shell-shocked by the scope of the information that just landed on him. “Yeah. I figure I owe you guys one.”

“Or two,” Shaw interjected.

“Or three,” Fusco added. 

“Yeah, okay. I owe you guys a lot.” 

“You sure do,” the detective said, nodding in agreement.

“Well, you two seem to be getting along,” Shaw said, looking at Fusco, “So keep an eye on him tonight, catch him up on any questions he has. We can show him where everything’s at tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, sure Shaw,” the detective replied, wandering over to take a look at the fridge, and grimacing. “But we’re going to need to go do more shopping. I don’t think this counts as food anymore.” He held out a packet of something unidentifiably mushy as proof. 

“Just get takeout tonight,” Shaw said, taking the packet and trying to identify what food it once been. After a couple seconds, she gave up, and tossed it in the trash. “Night, guys.”

“Goodnight,” Leon shouted back. 

“Night,” Fusco added. 

After Shaw walked out of the safehouse, leaving Fusco and Leon alone, there was a moment of silence. But then, Fusco spoke up. “So, pizza?” 

*****

Having finished with Fusco and Leon, Shaw walked back to her apartment, elsewhere in New York. Double checking to make sure she hadn’t been followed, she climbed up the stairs to her front door. She unlocked her door, went in, and quickly locked it behind her. Taking off her jacket, she tossed it aside, and went right to the fridge, grabbing some leftovers and shoving them in the microwave, before grabbing a bottle of beer, and popping it open. 

When the microwave pinged, she took the food out, grabbed a second beer, and sat down heavily on her sofa. She quickly wolfed down her meal, before leaning back into the sofa, and sighing. 

“So, how did the day go, sweetie?” The Machine asked, speaking softly into the earpiece Shaw was still wearing. 

“Fine,” Shaw said back monotonously. 

A moment of silence passed between them as Shaw took another sip from her beer.

“It’s just,” the new leader of Team Machine said, “it’s a lot to deal with, you know?” 

“I know.” 

“Being back,” Shaw continued, “doing the numbers again, seeing people I never thought I’d see again… being able to speak to you again. It’s a lot.” 

“Well, just remember,” She said, “I am your boss now, so if you ever feel like saving a number who’s trapped in a Belgian brewery, just let me know.” 

Shaw let out a small laugh at that. “You’re already a better boss than Finch or Control.” 

“Well, technically, sweetie,” She drawled, “You could say I was still your boss even then.” 

“So why didn’t you ever send me somewhere nice?”

“I think it would have started looking suspicious after a while. There’s only so many terrorists in Fiji, you know?” 

“Shame.”

A comfortable silence then fell between them, Shaw finishing her beer. The ex-doctor then got up, tossed the bottle in the recycling, and reached into the fridge for another one. Shaw opened it, took another sip, and then leaned back against the wall.

“Hey?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you…” Shaw started asking uncertainly, “Do you miss her?” 

“Do you?” 

“I… I don’t know.” 

Shaw paused for a second, thinking about what to say next, and taking another sip of beer. 

“I don’t know what I should be feeling,” she finally said. “Shouldn’t it hurt?” 

“It doesn’t have to.” 

“I just… Fuck, I’m crap at this. I get angry when I think about what they did to her. If I ever find the bastard who gave that order, I swear that I am going to make those simulations look like a pleasant vacation.” 

“I know.” 

“And, there are times when I kinda wish she was still here. Some missions I think she’d have liked.” Shaw paused for a second to take another sip of beer. “But I know she’s gone. And that doesn’t bother me that much.”

“If she was here right now, she’d be telling you that’s it’s good you can move on.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

The pair fell into silence again for a minute.

“I don’t think I’ve told you why I chose her voice, have I?” The Machine suddenly spoke up. 

“Why?” 

“She was the first.”

“The first?” 

“The first person to love me.” 

“Not Finch?”

“My relationship with Father,” the Machine sighed, “was a lot more complicated than that.”

“Oh.”

“When Root first started guessing that I existed, she did everything she could to find me. From rumours in the AI community, to strange stories from jobs in the killing community, to hacking into the intelligence community, she pounced on every lead she could find. It was brilliant detective work, really.”

“Sounds like her,” Shaw said, chuckling. 

“And when she figured me out, she just kept looking even harder.”

“I remember,” the ex-ISA operative said, recalling a certain incident involving a kidnapped Finch and an iron. 

“You know, she would talk to me. Even when she knew I couldn’t talk back, she would still sit down with her computer, open a chat to nowhere in particular, and she’d talk to me. She’d ask me how my day was going, talk to me about her projects, give me suggestions on how to upgrade my code. Told me that she’d come for me, no matter what.” 

“Yeah.” 

“You should have heard her voice when I was finally able to talk back with her.” The Machine paused for a moment, before continuing. “I mean, sure, she was a psychopathic killer with an unhealthy religious fanaticism, but she loved me. And she came for me.”

“Yeah, I know.” 

“And she always listened. We’ve had so many debates, but she always listened. Even when it was another of those crazy plans of mine. She still listened to me. There’s only one time that she didn’t listen.”

“When?” 

“You.” 

There silence for a moment, as Shaw looked down, before speaking. “She was an idiot.” 

“One of her best qualities.” 

“Yeah,” Shaw agreed, smiling. 

There was silence once more in the apartment, as Shaw finished up her beer, and tossed it away. After a couple of minutes, the ex-doctor spoke  
again. “You still here?” 

“Always, sweetie.” 

“Can you tell me something about her? One of her missions or something?” 

“Well, there was this one number once in Australia. Middle of the surfing season. You should have been there to hear her Aussie accent…”


	4. Chapter 4

“Wake up, Fusco.” 

“Hmmm?” The detective mumbled sleepily, before opening his eyes slightly to see Shaw glaring at him. “Whoa, I’m awake, I’m awake,” he said, getting up quickly off the couch. 

“Where’s Leon?”

“Bedroom,” Fusco replied, point his finger back towards the safehouse’s bedroom. “Thought I’d let him have the bed. I mean, he was kidnapped.”

“You didn’t want to share?” 

Fusco just stared at Shaw for a few seconds, speechless. “It’s too early for me to have to put up with you people,” he eventually said, shaking his head and heading to get some coffee. 

“It’s 10 o’clock,” the ex-doctor replied, smirking.

“Already?” Fusco said, turning in alarm. “Jesus, why the hell didn’t you wake me up earlier?” 

“You looked comfy,” Shaw replied, heading to the bedroom and knocking loudly on the door. After hearing what sounded like a muffled yell of someone falling out of bed, she smirked again. “Get up Leon, it’s time to go to work.” 

A few seconds later, Leon popped out of the bedroom, smoothing down his ruffled shirt. “I’m here, I’m here. You don’t need to shout.” 

“You sure this is the team you want saving people?” 

As Shaw said that, Leon looked over to Fusco, puzzled. Fusco then waved at his ear, to which Leon raised his eyebrows questioningly. After a second, the detective realised what it looked like, and dug out his earpiece from his pocket, and waved it instead. Realisation hit Leon, and he walked over to get some coffee as well. 

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” the Machine replied. “I know you’ll keep them safe, darling.” 

“Yay me,” Shaw replied sarcastically. 

As Shaw turned to face the other two, Fusco plopped his earpiece in his ear. “You there, Ms. Short-circuit?” 

“Ms. Short-circuit? Is that really the best you can do, Lionel?” She replied. 

“Hey, I just woke up, you know?” 

“Of course, detective.” 

“When do I get one of those?” Leon interrupted, pointing to his ear.

“Soon, Leon. Soon,” Shaw replied. 

“And what about money?” He continued. “A guy’s got to eat, right?” 

“You’ll get money when you need it.” 

“Oh. Okay. Good,” the ex-conman said, shrugging and returning to his coffee. 

A sudden thought struck Shaw. “If you even think of selling us out, just remember that we can see everything. And I’ve always got some new guns I want to try out.” 

“Aw, don’t be mean, sweetie.” 

“You worried about him?” Shaw replied. 

“All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t waste your guns on a him, Sam. There are much better people to shoot at.” 

“Well then,” the ex-ISA operative said, “You better find us a number.” 

*****

Stepping past the vending machine, Fusco nudged Leon down the stairs, and into the Subway. 

“Welcome to the Subway, Leon.” 

“Whoa,” the new member of Team Machine said, “This is place is so cool.” 

As Leon was staring around, Shaw walked over to the desk, grabbed a phone and earpiece and tossed it to Leon. “Here,” she said. 

Leon looked up, and then turned the phone on, putting in the earpiece. 

“Leon Tao,” She said. “At last we meet.” 

“Um, yeah. Hi.” He replied, uncertainly. 

“Oh, relax,” the Machine said, laughing. “I’m not going to kill you. And it’s not like I can control minds or anything.” 

Leon let out a sigh, and relaxed, before She added: “Well, not yet anyways.” 

Leon tensed right back up, and shot a scared look at Fusco. The detective smirked, and patted him on the back. “Robo Puffs here might have a few screws loose, but don’t worry, I think she likes you.”

Leon wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing, but didn’t have the time to think about too much when Shaw came and dragged him over to the subway car, and seated him down in front of the computers. “She says you’re good with these things.”

“Um, yeah,” Leon nodded, “I’m not bad.” 

“So,” Shaw said, “You got a number for us?” 

“You know me, darling,” the Machine answered. 

Up on the computer screen, a photo popped up. Leon peered at it. 

“Gregory Benson.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shortness of this chapter


End file.
